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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27611726">She Said She Was Proud</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Queen Series - Victoria Aveyard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Mental Abuse, Unrequited Love, elara manipulating her son yeah yeah, mare/maven ig, this is an actual dumpster fire I'm sorry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:48:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,404</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27611726</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Maven realizes, the entire world seems to stop turning. No more spinning, no more noise. Only complete stillness and radio silence surrounds him. It's suffocating and agonizing because from that moment on, nothing is ever the same…</p><p>Maven has fallen in love with Mare Barrow, and it scares him more than any nightmare ever did. Because once again, Maven wants what he can't have, and he already knows how these things end. </p><p>Everything that should be great will always end in tragedy. This is no exception.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mare Barrow/Maven Calore, Maven Calore &amp; Elara Merandus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>She Said She Was Proud</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I had to wait at the hospital for five hours today while my grandma had an operation done and I had nothing better to do so this exists now... It's kinda short and poorly written but I'm posting it anyway. &gt;:D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Maven realizes, the entire world seems to stop turning. No more spinning, no more noise. Only complete stillness and radio silence surround him. It's suffocating and agonizing because from that moment on, nothing is ever the same…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maven has fallen in love with Mare Barrow, and it scares him more than any nightmare ever did. Because once again, Maven wants what he can't have, and he already knows how these things end. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything that should be great will always end in tragedy. This is no exception. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite the common sense that told him that, up until this very moment, he played the part well of the innocent boy who knows nothing of this kind of heartache and tragedy. He fell in love with Mare, over and over again, and he has her falling for the person that he's been pretending to be—the person that he thought would be enough for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Until his perfect brother takes that away from him too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sight of it all ruins him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maven watches the screen in front of him, wide-eyed and heartbroken as Cal leans in. For a moment, he's foolish enough to think that Mare will pull away, will have enough respect for her betrothed not to abandon him for his brother.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But instead of pulling away, she shifts closer and closer, until her lips brush Cal's. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maven wants to scream. To slam his fists down on the desk, to kick something, to burn something- anything to make himself feel better, if only for a moment. But his mother's hand grips his shoulder, speaking to him like he's a child needing to be scolded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I told you, dear," </span>
  </em>
  <span>she says, whispering her way into his subconscious. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"They don't love you."</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maven's eyes stay fixed on the screen in front of him, watching the live stream of the two, caught by the ballroom security cameras in a trance. He says nothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"They only want to hurt you, Maven." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maven nods, staying silent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"They are monsters," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Elara whispers</span>
  <em>
    <span>. "And what do monsters deserve, dear?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Monsters-" Maven says quietly, choking on the words as he repeats what he's been taught all his life. "Monsters deserve to die."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"That's right," </span>
  </em>
  <span>she says, and Maven can almost feel her grin. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"And who will slay the monsters, my dear?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maven doesn't respond, watching the pair dancing on the screen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is Cal's fault. It always is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stupid, selfish Cal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Maven,"</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cal takes everything from him, everything that should be his. Their father's love, the country's love, the crown… Mare. It's all Cal's. He's a thief, a betrayer, </span>
  <em>
    <span>a monster. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Maven."</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I will," he tells her exactly what they both want to hear. His mother's grip on his shoulder tightens. "I'll do it."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Yes, you will. Just as you did the last monster." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thomas wasn't- Thomas wasn't- </span>
  </em>
  <span>He can't finish the thought, afraid that he'll lose his calm if he does. His hands shake uncontrollably as they fidget with the hem of his sleeve. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thomas, Thomas, Thomas. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Headache, headache, headache. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"What was that, darling?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Elara asks in response to the raging thoughts, running her long, slender fingers through Maven's hair. It sends a shiver down his spine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nothing." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>First Thomas, Now Mare? </span>
  </em>
  <span>The rational part of his mind screams at him, begging him to revoke what he promised. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How much blood will be on your hands before you're satisfied.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thomas' death was an accident. I didn't mean to-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And Mare's will be on purpose. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elara tsks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"What did I say about thinking with your heart?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not to..." Maven says, voice trembling. "To listen to you instead."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Are you going to listen then?" </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes,"  he says it against his better judgment only to please his mother, just like everything else he does. She's the only person that's ever been proud of him. The piece of him that is still nothing but a scared child wants so desperately to keep her proud. To prove to himself that he can be loved—if this even is </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Good,"</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes everything he has not to cry the next time he sees Mare, knowing what she thinks he's oblivious to. He smiles and takes her hand. He holds the door for her. He does everything he can to keep up the lies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He dances with her, knowing that it was his own brother to teach her how to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he returns to his room at the end of the night feeling exhausted and hurt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wonders why she did it. Did she do it because she loves Cal more or did she do it because she loves him less? Maven isn't sure if he prefers the former or the latter. Either way, this is torturing him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he were to become king, would she be his queen or would she choose Cal?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They don't love you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the voice in his head whispers. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They are monsters. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wonders if anyone will ever love him. He wonders if he'll ever have even a crumb of someone's heart to keep to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thomas,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He loved you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Thomas is dead, and now Maven has a headache. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mother, </span>
  </em>
  <span>a voice similar to his own whispers in his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She loves you, and she'll keep loving you if you do what she says. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he does. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he's king, Mare chooses Cal. She chooses the reds, she chooses The Guard. She chooses everyone but him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it gives Maven a sensation that he's never experienced— a rage unlike any other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants to burn the country to the ground. He wants everyone to know his name. He wants to ruin this stupid fucking kingdom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Mother says that can wait. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mother says a lot of things nowadays. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mother says that she's proud. She says that she loves him, that she cares about him. She says that Mare and Cal are bad people. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tries to take away the love he has for her, but just like his for Thomas, it refuses to leave. So instead, she twists it into obsession. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And now the only thoughts in his head are those of Mare Barrow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's agonizing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The voices in his head never seem to subside. Every whisper, every snicker, every scream echoes within the cage that is his mind, taunting him constantly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes he'll hear Mare's voice along with that of his mother, and it takes a great deal of strength to refrain from throwing himself to the floor in a child-like fit, screaming, and kicking, and clawing at his own skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Was it worth it?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>she asks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Was it worth losing me? Losing Cal?" </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It hurts him worse when he realizes that he can't find an answer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maven grips the sides of his throne, feeling the suffocating pull that the stone brings and the weight of the crown on his brow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Was it worth it?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maven laughs, only to keep himself from sobbing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Was it?" </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No!" he screams, thankful that there's no one around to hear his outburst. "Get out of my head."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"This is your fault."</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maven drops to the floor in front of his throne, cradling his face in his hands. "No!" he cries. "No, it's his- it's yours- it's-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You're a monster." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mother is dead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stares at the screen, watching the television broadcast in horror as Mare Barrow holds up his mother's corpse like some kind of rag doll. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One thought forces its way into his mind, and it sends the tears that he had fought for so long down his cheeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No one will ever be proud of me again. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He locks himself in his bedroom and pulls his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth the way that he did to calm himself as a child. He screams and sobs so fiercely that by the time he's done, his voice is completely gone and he's choking on his own tears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She's gone, she's gone, she's gone. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But her voice never leaves. No, it only grows louder and angrier, cursing violently. It scares him, and sends him into a panic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart rate speeds up, as does his breathing and his vision blurs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wonders briefly if he should be happy about it. He should be glad that he doesn't have to be afraid of thinking anymore. He should be glad that she can't twist his mind anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But she was still his mother.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And she said that she was proud. </span>
</p>
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